How Jaz met KC
by Marzena
Summary: Jaz could be described as a pretty little liar. And a pretty little thief. What happens when she meets her match? Set after Series 5.


_This is a prequel to the fan project I'm working on with a friend. (please see "Standing Alone Together", also here on fanfiction-net) Later in our project my character, Jaz, will turn up, along with KC. This is the story on how they met. I got inspired writing this when my friend showed me pictures of how Ari Boyland/KC has grown up. I was like, wow, where's the little boy gone?^^ Anyway, this is Jaz' and KC's story. You don't need much background information to understand it. Both got shipped off by the Technos, both made themselves a new life, and now they're about to meet for the first time. The characters of Barb and the goons, also mentioned in this story, have no other relevance than being supportive characters created for this little oneshot._

_In my opinion, each series is one year, so KC's been eleven in Series 1, so he should be 16 now. Quite grown up … :)_

_Please be aware that I'm German and therefore my English is not flawless. Help, comments, suggestions, questions, critique and everything else is very welcome!_

_Also – I don't own anything related to The Tribe! This is a fan project for my own entertainment purposes only. I do not earn money with this, I am doing this for free and for fun._

_Jaz (as well as Barb, Hal …) is my own character, but I do not own KC!_

Jaz would have found her way through the dusty, shabby looking old room blindfolded. Over the weeks, she'd gotten used to the old furniture that someone painted in crazy colors as well as the multicolored walls that were covered with obscene graffiti. The whole place looked like a rainbow-colored bulk waste collection with all sorts of broken and badly repaired furniture. And yet people came here and traded their stuff to enter this room. Well, after enough alcohol, the surroundings probably didn't matter that much. Not that Jaz minded. She knew people didn't came to hear her sing. But although she loved singing, it wasn't the first thing on her mind anyway.

She needed to get by. And that was always the first thing on her mind. She'd sworn to herself that she'd never be so completely helpless and incapable as she'd been back when the virus had started. And so far she'd kept that promise. She'd learned to be alert, never to trust anyone too much, and she'd learned to think quick, to never let opportunities pass and to get what she wanted. After all, in a world like this, everyone was their own best friend.

Swiftly, she moved around the motley tables, looking right at home between all those half-drunk idiots in their old and musty-smelling clothing. Jaz didn't mind. In a way, she was at home here. She knew most of the guys who hung around here, got drunk or passed out. She also knew who was worth the trouble.

With swaying hips, she moved around an empty chair, smiled at a group of guys who sat at one of the old tables, playing poker, and looked around. Groups were no good, but loners were. And there were quite a few loners in here. Most of them looked pretty much ragged, and she didn't give those another glance. They weren't worth it. Nothing to gain here.

There was no electricity, so there was no background music and no microphone. But usually, during her performances, they kept silent, or at least they didn't yell for more booze or started fights. She knew why. It wasn't her voice, and it wasn't her pretty face either. The words she sang couldn't have mattered less. All they saw was a pretty girl with big boobs in short clothes, bringing back some glitter and glamor into this rat-hole. They saw a clean girl in girlish clothes, styled to perfection, not one hair out of place. That was a difference to what the girls looked like out there, dirty, skinny, wearing old clothes, with dirty hair and very little makeup. In here, Jaz wasn't a girl, she was a fantasy.

Reality was different, of course. When Jaz came in to work, she went into the small backroom and cleaned herself up, did her hair, did wonders with lot's and lot's of makeup. Those fancy clothes she was wearing weren't even hers. Neither was the makeup or the colorful fake strands of hair she had used for her hairdo tonight. They were given to her by Barb, who was the owner of this rundown shack.

„People don't want to see some little girl in old clothes, people want to see someone fancy. You have a powerful voice. Now go create a personality to go with it."

With personality, Barb meant appearance. Appearance was everything. She had the voice, she had the looks, she brought in customers. In return, she got a warm meal and some food, batteries or whatever stuff people traded with Barb. Jaz didn't get much from Barb. But Jaz got a lot from stealing.

Singing was nice and fun, but singing didn't get you anywhere. The days of casting shows and school plays were long gone. So were the days where nice little girls got everything they wanted. But bad girls did. And after a lot of starving and snuggling down in an old thin jacket during a chilly night, Jaz had given up being nice and hoping to be rescued. There was no one left to rescue her anyway. That's when she started stealing which mixed perfectly with her looks and manners. A pretty, charming little girl … they always trusted her so easily. And then she went off with a warm coat, shoes, a blanket, food, batteries … everything she could get her hands on. What she didn't need, she traded for something she needed. And she got by. She didn't wake up hungry or cold anymore, and she learned her role to perfection – she was who they wanted her to be, and then she disappeared with some of their belongings. It was so easy. And sometimes so much fun. And sometimes sad, too.

She moved further along the tables, watching the guys through lowered lids, playing with strands of her colorful hair while doing so. Some tried to grab her – or grab certain body parts – but she moved away swiftly and seemingly playful. She would never go this far, although Barb did, and some others as well. Jaz preferred stealing, although she couldn't tell that to Barb, of course.

She started a new song, moving away from a rather plump guy, only leaving a bunch of feathers behind in his hand. She didn't mind that. The silly costume had too many feathers anyway. Although Jaz liked colorful clothing, she liked stylish colorful clothing. This outfit rather looked like a dress paired with an ostrich. Ewww. Going back to concentrating on her lyrics, she let her gaze wander around the shabby-looking room, studying the present people. There were a few that stuck out, and all of them were looking at her. She focused on one she'd never seen here before. He was probably new in town, rather handsome, and he didn't look shabby at all. She came closer and smiled in his direction, turning away for a moment and then back again. He had freckles, she noticed. Cute. But did he have anything worth getting her hands on? She nearly giggled at the thought when she realized it's equivocally. Her lyrics ended, and some of the guys applauded. He did so, too, while looking right a her, rather amused, maybe a bit flirty as well. She danced around another guy, stepped away from his hands, and smiled to herself. Well, what was the harm in a little bit of flirting. That guy didn't look exactly poor. A bit of flirting before stealing his rather cool looking boots, what harm could that possibly do?

She did two more songs, then she made her way back into the backroom, and behind her the rumble for more booze started. Barb followed her into the room who wasn't as colorful as the public parlor. Here, everyone threw in the furniture that got broken and the trash no one else wanted. It was filthy and dusty and smelly and no one gave a damn.

Barb was a tall girl who once must have been a beauty. She had nice hips and an ample bosom which she loved to show off. Strands of long, blonde curls hung over her shoulders, and her eyes were decorated with heavy makeup. But her face was pale and looked worn, she was very nervous and her movements were jittery all the time. She was also a heavy smoker who traded anything for a cigarette.

„Turned a few heads today, but other than that, nothing new", Barb said with her husky voice, fumbling with some strands of dirty blonde hair.

„Well, what else to do want?" Jaz asked, taking a sip of water out of her bottle. Clean glasses weren't exactly common around here, so she always used her own water bottle.

„Something new, maybe?" Barb learned against the wooden wall. In contrary to the public parlor, those walls hadn't been painted. No one cared about the rooms in the back. „Business is going pretty slow."

„It was pretty full tonight, if you ask me."

„Yeah, for once. Apparently, those Techno creeps have disbanded and the last lot of their prisoners are running free here in our city now."

„Oh, so that's why they looked more shabby than usual."

„That's why we need more booze. And more entertainment. You're a beautiful girl, Jaz. You could ..."

„Don't start this again."

This was something Jaz never ever considered to do. She loved being all smiles and flirty and if a guy was cute enough, she didn't mind making out a bit and having fun. But she'd never trade herself so that Barb would get more customers. Hell, she would never trade herself for getting herself food and clothing. She imagined some of the guys out there and shuddered, and when Barb noticed, she got angry.

„You act all high and mighty now, Jaz, but if this place is down, who gives you a meal and clothes? Where will you crash when you have no place to go?"

Jaz nearly snorted. Barb really had no idea. She thought that Jaz depended on her, needed her. Maybe in some way, that was true. But not the way Barb imagined it. Jaz needed Barb's customers to get her own food and clothes. By stealing, not whoring. But even without Barb, there was a whole city out there. Jaz had made it on her own before. And she could do so again. By lying, by cheating, by stealing. But nevertheless, she'd pull through.

She didn't tell that to Barb. As long as Barb through that Jaz depended on her, she'd keep her here. Barb didn't need to know that Jaz had stolen from her, too. Often.

„I can only tell you again and again to think of it", Barb said. „You've got those cute looks. Guys go for that. You could make yourself a fine living, hon."

Jaz hid back a smirk. Oh, she already had a fine living. A fine stash of stolen goods, hidden away safely.

„Sorry, Barb. But that's not for me."

„Your loss." Barb shrugged. „Anyway, I'm needed out there. You come in tomorrow as usual. Choose a few new songs, girl. We don't want them to get bored."

With that, Barb left, but Jaz doubted that this was the last conversation they would share about this. Leaning back, she pushed the thoughts away, drank her water and ate the meal Barb had left her on the table. It wasn't much but it was hot – okay, warm – food and it filled her up.

Then, she slowly pulled the fake strands out of her hairdo, leaving it falling down her shoulders, brightly colored in dark violet and pink on top and dark blonde from the chin on downwards. Here and there were single strands of black as well. She liked that hairdo. It was crazy, just like she was. Or like the new her was. Pre-virus-Jaz had been a boring brunette.

She shook off the thought of the time before the virus and slipped out of her ostrich-costume. Fancy, right. Fuck fancy. Birdy was more like it. Carelessly, she threw the costume over a broken chair and then dressed herself in her favorite multicolored top and cute black skirt. Hastily she put on several pieces of colorful jewelry before slipping in next door where one of Barb's goons guarded the table with the traded goods. Revealing a long naked leg and showing her best smile, Jaz stepped towards him and started a conversation. Chatty by nature, she didn't have to think long before the conversation was in full swing. And while the goon kept staring at her red lips, Jaz shot a sideways glance at the table and grabbed a few pieces of stuff – jewelry and batteries – and shoved them into her pockets.

„So nice to chat with you, Hal", she finished with a smile. „But I've got to run, it's getting late, the streets are not safe, and I've got to come in early to help Barb clean up, soooo ..."

„Well, night then, Jaz. See ya tomorrow, I guess", he stammered, and with a grin, Jaz disappeared out of the side door and into the early night.

Outside, the shack looked even shabbier than on the inside, and the front door didn't even properly close. But maybe that was a good thing, too. Local gangs controlled this sector and usually they took control of places like this pretty fast, drank all the booze themselves and wanted their share of the profits, meaning they took all the good stuff and left all the junk. So far, Barb's rundown place had escaped their knowledge, and if some gang members knew, they didn't spread the word. They probably liked the thought of booze, poker, drugs, girls and all sorts of illegal activities too much.

Jaz took her stolen goods out of her pocket. Not much tonight. A cheap ring, some fake pearl earrings, three batteries. It wasn't easy to take stuff when Hal kept staring directly at her. One of the others was more fun. He kept staring awkwardly at his big feet, giving Jaz plenty of opportunity to rob Barb.

„Didn't take you for the type of girl who'd go for fake jewelry."

Whirling around, she found herself face to face with the handsome guy from before, the one whose boots she'd set her eyes on. Not that she could have worn them. Her feet were too small anyway. But she could probably trade them in for loads of food or a whole pack of batteries.

„How do you know it's fake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

„Because those earrings were my entry ticket. Along with some other stuff. I've seen them in daylight, and they're pretty much cheap and a bit broken, too."

Jaz played a bit with the earrings in her hands but put the more valuable batteries away in her pocket again.

„Yeah, well. Maybe I want to trade them, too."

„Well, I wouldn't try to give them to another girl, then. They might notice."

„Okay then, so I won't."

She was distrustful, and she didn't try to hide it. Just because the guy looked kinda hot, he could still be trouble. Trouble in a nice package, but still.

„Don't trust me?" he asked, grinning at her.

„Don't know you", she shot back.

„I'm KC", he introduced himself.

„And you're not from around here, are you?"

„Actually, no. But I get around a lot."

„So I see. Love your boots."

Yeah, she usually didn't comment on the stuff she wanted to steal, but she really did like the boots. Where on earth had he found them?

„Yeah?" He was grinning again. „So do I. Had to have them the moment I saw them."

_So do I_, she thought to herself.

„You have a name?" he asked her, stepping closer.

„Sure." She tried her playful smile. „Didn't you hear the introduction? I'm Dazzler."

„That is your real name, then? I thought perhaps it's your stage name. But then again, you are dazzling."

„And you're a charmer", she replied, rolling her eyes. „A tribal name is nothing more than a stage name, isn't it? What does KC stand for, anyway? I mean, surely your parents didn't name you with two initials?"

He looked surprised. „You know, mostly people just think my name's Casey. You know, like the first name."

„I'm a singer. You know, exquisite ear and stuff. KC sounds different from Casey. If you listen closely, anyway. It's a K and a C, not a name."

„It's my name. My tribal name, anyway."

„Well, then. Hello, KC."

_And hello, lovely boots._

„And hello back to you … Dazzler."

Was he mocking her? She couldn't say. She wanted to tell him that her name was Jaz, but then again, if he wanted to play it flirty, she'd be a willing participant.

„So … will you stay here for long? In the city, I mean?" she started a conversation.

He shrugged. „Well, I don't have anywhere else to go right now. So yeah, I might be staying a little while."

„Lovely. Maybe we'll see more of you at Barb's, then."

„Bimbo?"

She giggled when she heard that. „That's what they call her?"

It suited Barb fine, but it also made Jaz wonder what they called her. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't any better and most likely the word dazzling wouldn't be part of the conversation.

„One of the names, yeah. Probably the most decent one." He paused. „They say you're just the singer?"

„Disappointed? Or ashamed to be seen with a wench?"

„Just trying to figure you out." He smiled at her. „I still don't believe your name is really Dazzler."

„Why ever not?"

„It would be too easy. But … let's call you Dazzler for now, shall we?"

They now leaned against the old wooden wall of Barb's place, chatting, or rather, flirting. There was a full moon in the dark sky, which gave the whole scene kind of a romantic setting. Still, Jaz reminded herself to be on guard. In a world like this, letting your guard down in the wrong moment with the wrong person could be fatal.

„Am I gonna see you again?" she finally asked. „You know, same time, same place, tomorrow?"

„Ah, more of the detestable booze." He laughed. „Well, if you're lucky, I'll be there. Keep an eye out for me, Dazzler."

Usually, it was her who acted like that. Who never made a promise, who always acted flirty and playful and put on a show for everyone. But now here was someone who could be as slick and slippery as she was. She'd been talking to that guy for a while now and still she knew nothing about him. Expect his name, if you could call two letters a name. He irritated her, but she was careful not to let that show.

„See you tomorrow, then", she replied and decided to play it cool. That guy was different than those idiots who kept drooling all over her the minute they saw her. And she got a feeling it would not be too easy to get her hands on his boots.

With that, Jaz walked off and forced herself not to look back. She took the long way home, enjoying the stroll through the night, always making sure she wasn't being followed. Currently, she lived on the first floor of an old house where she had the comfort of an old bed and her stack of stolen stuff safely hidden under a loose floorboard.

The night went by slowly and when Jaz woke up and walked back to Barb's place, she still felt tired. As usually, Barb wasn't wake yet. The early hours weren't for her. Some of her goons dozed in the corners while others were putting chairs and tables back in order. Jaz grabbed an old broom and joined the cleaning, first sweeping the floor, then wiping the surfaces. It wasn't that much cleaner afterwards, but it didn't look like a hurricane had trashed the place anymore. Bored, Jaz gave the room a last glance and then went to get her breakfast which was her payoff for the cleaning job. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Jaz spend the afternoon in the city, strolling around, making one or two acquaintances and acquired some new stuff. She came up with two new songs she wanted to sing, and Barb was satisfied.

"Good", she said. "At least they're not as sappy as some of your songs. Sappy songs don't sell booze. Sing about drinking, partying, having fun."

Partysongs weren't very challenging, but then again, nobody gave a shit anyway. So Jaz wiped off her own makeup – cute little stars and some bright pink ornaments – and put on the glittery stuff, the dark eyeliner and the cherry red lipstick. This time, her costume was a mixture of gold and red and didn't leave much to imagination. She put on the high heels and mixed some dark and some red fake strands of hair into her hairdo. Very well. Now the earrings and then she would be ready.

"You done in there?" Barb asked, walking in without knocking, a cigarette in her hand. "The room's packed. So go and get them all heated up. I want more valuables on that trading table."

Jaz walked past her, out into the public parlor, which was full of noise, smell and people. Barb's goons stood at the bar and the broken door, watching everyone, ready to step in before the place got even more trashed. Some guys already looked pretty wasted.

Barb's loud voice announced the dazzling Dazzler – an introduction Jaz hated for she found it very cheesy – and Jaz made her way past the tables and the customers, already in the middle of her second song when she spotted KC, with his rather cool-looking clothes, his spiky hairdo, his freckles and his boyish grin, leaning at the multicolored wall, watching her. She paused between two verses to show a smile which he returned. So he did come after all.

She knew Barb expected a flawless performance, so Jaz concentrated on her singing and on avoiding being touched by squirmy guys. When her time was up and her last song over, she got the usual applause. But this time, instead of heading to the backroom for dinner, she went looking for KC.

"Nice show, Dazzler", he said when she reached him. He had to speak up to be heard since the poker-players at the table next to his were having a fight over the last glass of booze.

She looked around, found no empty chair left and took at seat right in his lap. "My shows are always nice", she stated, showing off her legs.

He looked surprised but he didn't push her away. Instead, he looked comfortable with her sitting there. The guys around them looked envious, which he ignored.

"Comfortable, eh?" he commented, and she giggled while looking down. Yup, he still wore the boots.

"Very", she agreed.

"If the booze here would be any good, I'd buy you a drink", he said.

Jaz knew that Barb had told the barmen to fill up the glasses halfway with water, and it wasn't even clean water. Most of the guys didn't care as long as they could get wasted. In two hours, everyone here would be totally wasted. That's why Jaz preferred to perform early.

"I know where the real booze is hidden", she whispered into his ear. "You want to get wasted, I'm your girl."

He seemed amused by that, and after a moment of consideration, he nodded. "Whatever you say, sweetie."

"Meet me outside in fifteen", she whispered.

Getting up, she blew a kiss in his direction and then headed for the backroom without stopping or looking back. Thankfully, Barb was also busy with sitting on someone's lap, another cigarette in her hand. In a hurry, Jaz got out of her clothes, wiped away the makeup and pulled the fake strands out of her hair. She got dressed in her own clothes and hurried with painting a few of her usual stars into her face. Barb had forgotten to leave her a meal but this time, Jaz didn't bother to remind her. Instead, she slipped next door and down into the hidden cellar. There was one backroom with loads of alcohol, but from snooping around and listening at doors and charming the information out of Barb's right-hand-man Dom Jaz knew perfectly well where the really good stuff was hidden. So down she went, taking care not to fall down the old wooden steps, and took a bottle from behind the others. With a bit of luck, Barb wouldn't notice it gone for days. Then she went to get another bottle, smiling to herself.

She was late, but then, punctuality never had been her strong side. Anyway, KC was still waiting for her, and triumphantly, she held up the two bottles.

"It's the really good stuff", she promised.

He laughed and didn't seem to care that she'd just stolen from her boss. Instead, he urged her to follow him, and Jaz forgot about being careful for once and decided on being carefree for the night, followed him, still holding the bottles.

KC led her to an old house with big windows facing a dark and overgrown garden. They climbed through the broken windows and made themselves at home, using the old and dusty furniture inside. For a moment she wondered how many girls he'd already brought here, but then she pushed the thought aside and handled him the bottle from Barb's hidden stash.

"There you go", she said.

He opened it and sniffled, then grinned at her. "You're right, this is really good stuff. If Bimbo would serve this, that little place would be trashed and gone within an hour."

He took a sip, and now Jaz unscrewed her own bottle and tried her best to grin as well.

"Cheers, KC. To whatever this may lead."

_The boots, hopefully. And some making out wouldn't be too bad, either._

"Cheers, Dazzler."

He took another big sip, and she made herself comfortable on the old sofa, shifting purposely so her skirt slid a bit upwards, revealing some more naked leg.

It didn't take long for the making out to start. After her little show with the legs, KC didn't need much more encouragement, and neither did Jaz. Making sure he drank some more out of his bottle now and then, she wrapped her arms around him. She wasn't as experienced as some people believed her to be but she'd watched Barb and some of her friends. She knew what to do when.

He fell asleep after taking his shirt off and after finishing the whole bottle but before she could urge him to take off the boots as well. But never mind. She pushed him aside and got off the sofa, straightening her clothes. Well, bummer. She wouldn't have minded making out a little bit longer. Getting on her knees before him, she fumbled with the boots and tried her best to slip them off his feet without waking him up.

His feet were smelly, but then again, everyone was smelly these days. There wasn't much hygiene going on nowadays. She took the boots and her fake bottle of booze – who consisted mostly of water – and slowly tiptoed to the door. He'd probably show up at Barb's tomorrow, and he'd probably be pissed. She'd deal with it when – ouch!

"Going somewhere, Jazlyn?"

She dropped the boots and whirled around, facing a grinning KC.

"What the -"

"Hell. I believe that's the word you're looking for? Anyway, I asked around. And I was right. You're name's not Dazzler."

"Um, no, it isn't", she managed to say, sounding irritated. Why did he sound so sober?

"Wonder why the bottle was empty so fast?" he grinned. "While you were busy to … shall we call it dazzle me? … I switched the bottles."

She looked at hers. Barb's bottles all looked the same except that the ones with the real booze still had their label on them so Barb could identify them. And true enough, holding her bottle up into the dim moonlight that shone through the big windows, she now could see the label. Ewww. Being played at her own game sucked.

He kept grinning at her, obviously very amused at her sour face. She was angry with herself. Instead of concentrating on the kissing, she should have concentrated on what he was doing while kissing her back. Beginner's mistake. Bad mistake.

"Couldn't figure you out, so I didn't trust you", he said, taking back his boots from the floor. "Plus, you showed the signs. Like switching personality pretty fast, obviously lying, avoiding straight answers, stealing from your boss without a worry ..."

She folded her arms. "I should have known", she mumbled. "You were too much a charmer. Shouldn't have let my guard down."

"At least don't show interest in the stuff you want to take", he said, holding up the boots. "Coz, you know, that's just pretty damn obvious."

"I'm good", she insisted, losing her cool but couldn't help herself. She hated to be lectured. She'd been fooling Barb and her guys for quite a while now.

"I'm better", he stated, smirking.

Rolling her eyes, she held the bottle close and took a few steps backwards to the broken window. "I'm leaving now", she said firmly and with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Feel free, as long as you leave me my footwear. After all, I stole it first."

Of course he did. It all fit – the cool clothes, the nice boots, everything. He didn't wore old smelly clothes, he just helped himself to new ones. And by the look of the stuff he wore he didn't rob losers and ex-techno-prioners.

"Whatever", she said between gritted teeth, stepping out of the house and into the cold night.

"I'll be around here for a while, Jaz", he called after her. "Guess I'll be seeing you then."

Unfortunately, he probably would. Rolling her eyes again, she quickly walked through the overgrown garden while unscrewing the bottle. This could get interesting. But right now, she really needed a drink. A real one. Damn KC. Just – damn KC!

And with that thought, she walked off into the darkness.


End file.
